5.19.2013

Cookin' It. Livin' It. Lovin' It.

Even
though we have a very, very long history of written correspondence
via the good old post office, for the past few years Paz and I have
been taking turns sending each other 'care packages'. They are kind
of, but not necessarily, for birthdays, Christmas, and the like. The
ones from me show up on time – unless I accidentally send one to
her childhood address where a bunch of frat boys now live, or I mess
up the postage, for no good reason at all. The ones from Paz, well,
they show up when they show up. I received my last birthday package
on the first day of Fall. My birthday is in mid-June. And so,
fittingly, she gave me my Christmas package while I was visiting home
last month. In April.

From my
end the packages are not what most people would describe as important
or precious. Often I go through my house and find an odd mish-mash
of tchotchkes, randoms and play pretties. Anything from old pictures,
to stickers, to a Ryan Gosling coloring book, to old CDs, to clothes
that no longer fit, to Chanel nail polish. The very Chanel nail
polish she was oohing and ahhing over in some fashion magazine the
last time she visited me in LA. To her credit, her packages do seem a
little more thought out than mine. It certainly doesn't seem that she
is ambling through her house grabbing this and that off of the
shelves.

My
recent April Christmas package was really kicky, actually. She had
been back to visit her 'people' in the Dominican Republic very
recently, and snagged some pretty great stuff for me during her stay.
There were two types of rum (rhum?), white and black. I don't drink
rum (rhum?), but fortuitously my dad does. So I left that behind for
him. There was nail polish (not Chanel), a cowbell (no clue), a Guy
Fieri spatula that reads, “Cookin' It, Livin' It, Lovin' It”, and
a huge wad of straight-from-the-DR, dulce de leche. Paz knows me
well. She knows I don't have a sweet tooth, per se, but I love the
more savory, more muted versions of sweets: dulce de leche being a
prime ejemplo.

And so
from the Dominican Republic, to Richmond, Virginia, to Los Angeles,
California, traveled this dulce de leche. And the Guy Fieri spatula.
Of course. Funny thing about the Guy Fieri spatula; I know she gave
it to me as a gag (we shared massive giggles over the, now-infamous,
Pete Welle's scathing review of Guy's American Kitchen & Bar this
past November). But, I have to admit, it is actually a really good
spatula. Who knew Guy Fieri would ever be so prominent in my own
Flavor Town; my kitchen.

Back to
the dulce de leche, which is literally translated as candy of milk,
or milk candy. The Dominican Republic version is made with equal
parts milk and sugar with cinnamon, and the texture is a lot like
fudge. Now. What was I going to do with it? I know that it is often
used to flavor cakes and cookies. I've also seen toffee-like dulce de
leche candies. But the weather is warm, the flowers are blooming, the
tank tops are out, and when Fred and I looked at one another we knew.
It's ice cream time.

Which is
great, because that is all Fred. Fred is the ice cream man, and
everyone who has eaten his ice cream will agree. He has a way. And
when I say he has a way, I mean to say he has a French (or sometimes
Italian) way. Fred is not afraid of the egg yolk. And considering
eggs are so the new bacon, which is to say, wicked hip, why should he
be? I guess my Fred is wicked hip.

To
elaborate, French ice cream is made with egg yolks, so it's thick and
custardy. Both French and Italian ice creams are made this way, while
the French use a bit more cream to milk and Italy more milk to cream.
Whereas American ice cream (also called Philadelphia-style) is made
with sugar, milk and cream. No eggs. European ice cream is richer,
silkier and it doesn't develop nearly as many ice crystals as its
lighter cousin. And when I say cousin, I mean to say the kind of
cousins that don't much care for one another. The French hate
American ice cream.

Fred's
ice cream is no joke – sweet, decadent, thick and velvety. For his
dulce de leche ice cream he also added some toasty, salty almond
chunks for texture. For a small dinner party coming up he is making a
pine nut ice cream with fresh strawberries and honey. I mean, come
on.

And yes,
he makes the ice cream with our new Guy Fieri spatula. Because we, in
fact, are “Cookin' It, Livin' It, Lovin' It”.

DIRECTIONSWhisk
together dulce de leche and the whole milk in a medium saucepan. Heat
gently over medium heat until very hot, but not boiling. Meanwhile,
whisk the egg yolks and sugar until light in color.

Slowly
add the hot milk mixture to the eggs while whisking. Pour back into
the pan. Gently cook over low to medium heat, until it starts to
thicken and reaches 160 degrees F on an instant read thermometer.
(Don't let it exceed 180 degrees, or it will curdle. If you don't
have a thermometer, cook until the custard is thick enough to coat
the back of a wooden spoon.) Strain the cooked custard through a fine
mesh sieve into a clean bowl and add the cream.

When
mixture is thoroughly cold, churn using your method of choice. Add
almond chunklets to the ice cream when there are about 5 minutes left
in the churning process. Transfer to a freezer safer container and
freeze for several hours before serving.